


Rare

by stefaferd



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Alcohol, College, F/M, Famous, Modern, Romance, Sad, Vacation, Violence, celebrity, original - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 11:26:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17866379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stefaferd/pseuds/stefaferd
Summary: Somewhere north a young woman named Florence lived as a senior undergraduate student with a typical lifestyle. Her friends were normal, her activities were normal, the clothes she wore were normal, her family was normal, her boyfriend was normal, her job was normal—until Harry had entered her life.Everyone had secrets, small, medium, large, catastrophic, minuscule; they were hidden within the crevices of anxious minds. Secrets built people up like castles, fending off anyone and everyone from breaching the gates. And when someone did, open the gate, there was no escaping what was to come.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for choosing to read this story. it will be also updated on wattpad (user: sleepdeprived), where i’m more affiliated, however i thought that it would be nice to expand my writing further onto other websites, which is how i ended up here. this story may seem a little slow at first but it does get more intense as it goes along. it’s still an ongoing progress so bare with me on the updates, as i am in college which takes up a lot of my time. let me know your thoughts on the story, i hope you enjoy it :)

**PART ONE**    

 _**INCANDESCENT** _  

_glowing or white with heat; aglow with ardor, purpose, etc._


	2. CHAPTER 01 | RED

**red**

_color of blood;_

_shade resembling such a color._

_something red._

 

**S** he knew that familiar sensation between her thighs that trickled and would eventually turn into a steadiness of uncomfortable flow. Haze swirled in her eyes as she threw back the covers and quietly ran towards the bathroom with her gut clenched as if that would stop the inevitable bleeding. Her bare feet hit the smooth wooden paneling of the floor, the soles of her feet aching to crawl back into the warmth of the sheets. Yanking down her pajama bottoms she closed the door and flicked the light on, plopping her ass onto the toilet seat as her gaze traveled down to her underwear.

 

"Fuck," she lowly murmured as the assumption rang true. Luckily, she was smart enough to keep a fresh pair of underwear in her toiletry bag in case it was what she had guessed correctly. There was no better time than on vacation with her friends to receive the gift of womanhood, but she wished she had gotten it a little later in the week due to the fact that it would make the day's activities slightly unappealing.

 

Unwrapping the pad, she stuck it against the fabric and then cleaned herself up, flushing the toilet and pulling up her fleece bottoms. She reached the sink with sleep still muddling her thoughts as she used a pump or two of the cashmere scented hand soap. Blinking a few times, she caught sight of her hair that was awkwardly crimped in places due from her abstract sleeping positions. Her skin was beginning to appear greasy which was a natural occurrence, a few acne scars spread across her cheeks imitating the shadows of freckles. She wasn't perfect there was no doubt about that, but there was an odd beauty in the natural human body she found so appealing.

 

Maybe that was why she was drawn to him. It was the first day they were checking into the lodge, a slew of visitors rambling around, either complaining about the temperature or the service of the staff or billing complications. Nobody was ever truly happy on vacation, not unless they were madly in love or by themselves, and even then not so much. She was waiting behind her friends as they checked in with the woman behind the oak wood desk, her fingers quickly tapping against the keyboard.

 

The floor she had noticed first. It was smooth like marble and the soft and plushy carpet she was standing on was a dark red color, to likely hide the traction travelers brought in. That drew her attention to her boots that were obviously worn in from the crevices made within the texture of the brown leather. They were old but still usable against the snow and they went well with a lot of the clothes she wore, which was an addition to her likeness towards them.

 

"Florence," Christopher called to her, his cheeks still pink from the harsh winds outside. She realized the group was already moving towards the elevator, their luggage being taken from them by the staff.

 

She walked towards him, his blonde hair slightly damp as snowflakes melted into the strands. He gave her her room key that was in the form of a credit card, the lodges' emblem stamped into the front. Entering the elevator, she smiled at Ingrid who stood next to her, tapping away on her phone. Ingrid looked over at Florence, her dark brown almost black irises piercing her best friend before saying, "don't worry, Greg will get here soon enough."

 

Greg, being Florence's boyfriend, was late coming to the trip due to complications at work. He was a few years older than her, having graduated and quickly moving on to work at his dad's law firm. Florence admired him for his hard work and punctuality which is why she was surprised to hear that he wouldn't make it to the first couple days of the trip, pushing back his train ticket. She didn't mind, she understood how important his job was to him. Such instances have happened before and she trusted him. There was no reason not to. He made sure there wasn't.

 

Florence only nodded her head as the doors dinged open, revealing a hallway with the same velvet red carpet lining the entirety of the floor this time. A couple was unlocking their door with their key, both bundled up from head to toe. She found it amusing as she exited the elevator and went in search of her room; 348. They had all made sure to get rooms on the same floor so that when they wanted to meet up they weren't searching for each other the entire time. She didn't mind, as the floor was pretty small and the rooms were big which meant there wasn't going to be too many strangers.

 

Ingrid found her room and beckoned Florence over, seeing as their rooms were right next to each other. "Wanna go explore in ten minutes?" She asked, a smile lighting up her face.

 

"Sure," Florence nodded, turning to stand in front of her door and unlock the room by swiping her card through the slot provided near the handle.

 

"Oh by the way," Percy, one of their friends who also happened to be an exchange student at their university, grinned as he poked his head out of his door that was across the hall, "Harry said he'd be here in about twenty minutes so meet him down there and give him his key, yeah?"

 

Harry Florence thought of the man instantly. She had only seen him in photos, yet his eyes filtered through her memory of him most prominently. Harry was Percy's cousin, both of them from England. He was quite famous, almost every teenage girl and boy knew about him and they either adored him or wished they could be him. Florence never met him through the duration of knowing Percy, however she knew of Harry long before meeting Percy which was why discovering that the rambunctious brunette was related to international superstar Harry Styles was a shock to her.

 

He didn't bring up his cousin much, which was understandable considering his cousin was a celebrity and people would only want to be friends with him because of said relation. Florence didn't care that Percy was related to Harry, she found it fascinating but knew not to push the topic too far as Percy was sensitive on just talking about Harry for an extended time. She understood his reasoning.

 

Florence nodded once again and glanced at Ingrid who's face was beaming at the mention of Harry. She kept her face of little emotion as she gave her friend a wave before entering her room. The room was larger than she anticipated, the photos online not doing the room any justice. The floors were a smooth dark wood and the walls were of a lighter color. The bed was large enough for two and stacked with pillows and fuzzy plaid blankets. She ran her fingers over them as she walked towards the balcony that overlooked a dense forest that was weighed down by piles of white untouched snow. She could see mountains in the distance and the sun, obscured by a haze of gray clouds, fought to be noticed by the people down below.

 

There was a stone fireplace that dominated one wall and a small living area with leather couches. Behind the couch was her luggage, stacked gently by careful hands. She had about fifteen minutes before she had to meet up with Ingrid again. She didn't know what Chris and Percy were going to do. She had faintly heard them talking about getting lunch and she couldn't blame them—train food wasn't always the greatest.

 

She took off her boots for a short moment and located the bathroom, which was just as elegant as the living space. Her reflection in the mirror was how she expected; tired but happy to be away from the college she had called home for almost four years now. She wondered what her other friends were doing for winter break. Lana was most likely working and Hayden was probably relaxing, reading up on the homework that's not due until when they get back from vacation. He was always a step ahead of everyone in their major, but Florence didn't mind because she could ask him a question and he would happily oblige.

 

She sighed, not sure what she should do. She wasn't exactly hungry, especially when she had an inkling that they would be joining Percy and Chris for lunch once they were done exploring and meeting up with Harry. She ran her hands through her thick brown hair and was about to sit on one of the couches when a knock came from her door. Curiously, she opened it to find Ingrid.

 

"Ready to go?" She asked.

 

"But you said ten minutes," Florence frowned, leaving the door open to go fetch her boots.

 

"That was before Harry Styles was about to be on the premises," Ingrid grinned like a madwoman, letting herself into Florence's room.

 

Florence rolled her eyes as she laced up her boots. "Don't scare him, please. Percy doesn't like when people make scenes around him," she begged.

 

Ingrid's shoulders dropped, "I know that. I'm just excited is all. I've never met a celebrity, to be exact, I've never met him."

 

Florence was almost done lacing her other shoe when she looked up at her friend. "He's human like the rest of us," she assured Ingrid, maybe even to herself. "How different can he be?"

 

Ingrid shrugged, "we're about to find out."

 

Florence locked her room as the two of them headed towards the elevator once more. "My room is gorgeous, hows yours?" She asked, even though she was sure their rooms were about the same.

 

"The same," Ingrid said, confirming Florence's assumption. "I wonder what he smells like," Ingrid commented.

 

Florence's eyes widened as her head snapped to her friend, "Ingrid."

 

The dark haired girl only grinned at Florence as the doors to the lobby reopened. They stepped off and scanned the area, unsure of where to start. Ingrid grabbed her wrist abruptly, dragging her towards two double doors off the side of the lobby. Florence tried to keep up with her pace as they entered the space. It was like a mini shopping mall as a Starbucks and a Yankee Candle were one of the first stores to be seen.

 

"This is so cool," Ingrid gleamed as she made a beeline towards the busy Starbucks.

 

Florence bit the inside of her cheek, glancing behind her to the lobby. "Harry's gonna be here soon expecting us to be there, the line's too long," she tried to reason with her friend. There was about fifteen people ahead of Ingrid who were impatiently waiting for their sugary beverage.

 

Ingrid looked at Florence from over her shoulder, "it'll be fine."

 

Florence clenched her teeth as she nervously debated staying with Ingrid or waiting for Harry to arrive. She would hate to have him stand there with all of his belongings but she would also feel incredibly worse if she left her friend by herself. Making up her mind, she sent a quick text to Ingrid, who was already swallowed by the mingling crowd of people waiting in line, telling her that she would be in the lobby.

 

She stood patiently on the squishy red carpet, the heat blowing over her to fight the cold that kept blowing in every time the doors opened. Her eyes ran over every person in the room, watching with inquisitiveness. She enjoyed observing people. She wasn't a stalker or a creep but there was something beautiful about seeing someone in their truest form, with the idea that no one was watching them. It was fascinating and amusing to see how people acted among society. That was probably why she was getting a degree in English. She wasn't a very social person, she wasn't sure how she ended up befriending the people who were deemed her friends, but she didn't find herself wanting to be the center of attention. It was probably why she enjoyed writing about them instead.

 

A cold breeze fell over her, sending a shiver throughout her body. Looking back over to the main doors, Florence watched as a burly man dressed in black outerwear entered, his eyes scanning the perimeter until they landed on Florence. She wanted to scurry away into a hole in the wall as his towering frame shadowed the luminescence of the ceiling lights. He paused a few feet away from her small figure before asking, "Florence Whittaker?"

 

Timidly, she nodded.

 

He turned his head behind him, giving whoever was there a curt nod and then stepping aside to reveal the eyes she had only ever seen through the lens of a camera. For some reason the eyes are the most important feature to some people, they're the first thing they typically see when they meet a person, and for Florence, she had always been afraid of eye contact but something pulled her in to the way his eyes found hers and were filled with something she couldn't quite figure out. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans with heavy boots and his upper half was covered in a puffy black coat, a magenta scarf around his neck that appeared impeccably soft. His wide smile broke her trance as he held out a hand to her, "pleasure to meet you, Florence. Sorry about him, I hope he didn't scare you."

 

She stared at his hand that was covered in an array of shiny, bulky rings for a second before yelling at herself to reach out and shake the damn thing. His hand enveloped hers as a warmth spread throughout her arm and she couldn't help but swallow thickly as she attempted to say something, anything. "It's fine, he's fine. He's probably just doing his job," she murmured, dropping her hand to her side. He gave her another smile that made his dimples a little more prominent. He's seems nice she thought as another bodyguard carrying luggage came up from behind Harry. She looked at the bodyguard before her eyes danced over Harry for a second. He didn't say anything.

 

"Percy has your room key," was all she could say, unsure of how to go about the situation.

 

Harry nodded as the bodyguard carrying the luggage left in the direction of the front desk, his eyes drifting over her appearance for a moment too long. She felt exposed like a worm on a particularly hot summer day, as if she was making her way across the hot asphalt with the sun's eyes burning her fragile skin. She wasn't drop-dead-gorgeous or unique in any way, she was curvy and had plain brown hair and gray eyes that she inherited from her mother. Her nose was a little big and her lips were not plump or seductive like a lot of social media's influencers seemed to be. She wasn't perfect but she was pretty in her own way, she supposed.

 

A hand landed on her shoulder, causing her to jump in her spot. Harry's eyes filled with an emotion she yet again couldn't place as she looked to find Ingrid with a Starbucks cup in her hand. Florence watched as Ingrid's eyes almost fell out of her head when she saw Harry standing in front of them, her posture changing as she straightened her back and stretched out her hand, her fingernails painted a pale gold color that shimmered when moved a certain way. "Hi, my name's Ingrid, I'm a friend of Florence and Percy," she greeted.

 

Harry smiled back at her and shook her hand, politely saying, "it's nice to meet you, I'm Harry."

 

Ingrid rolled her eyes at him and smiled, "I know that, silly."

 

Florence stared at her friend, not comprehending why she was acting in such an odd way. But then again, she did know why. Ingrid tended to like shiny things and Harry Styles was no doubt the shiniest of them all. For some reason it made her own cheeks flare up into a blush, hopefully going unnoticed. She wasn't quite sure what to say, but then her mind sparked.

 

"Percy and Chris had mentioned lunch earlier, they're probably sitting down somewhere," she breathed, pulling out her phone to text Percy. She immediately got a reply back. She looked up at Harry and Ingrid who were waiting patiently. "They're at the Veranda."

 

Florence noticed that as they were walking to the restaurant people were staring at them, their phones out as Harry walked by minding his own business, casually chatting with an eager Ingrid. His first bodyguard stayed close behind them, a wall of muscle and brute force.

 

"What do you say about that, Florence?" Harry asked, his light green eyes finding her over Ingrid's head, who walked between them.

 

Florence opened her mouth, not knowing what to say, but was cut off by Ingrid who laughed in a strange way, "we're here!"

 

Florence looked away from his burning stare to the sign of the restaurant that hung over the entrance. It was decorated in fake ivy leaves to bring an organic aesthetic to the cold and snowy setting. They were greeted by the hostess and after Ingrid gave them the names of Percy and Chris, they were escorted into the minimalistic however rustic dining area. People's eyes found their way over to them, specifically Harry, but they didn't move from their seats, only whispered underneath the light clattering of silverware. She couldn't understand how that didn't bother him—if it even did.

 

She spotted Percy's brown head of hair that almost matched Harry's and Chris's pale blonde hair in the corner of the restaurant. When they approached the table a giant smile fell onto Percy's face as he got up to embrace his cousin. Harry smiled brightly and shook hands with Chris, who graciously moved over a seat so the seating would be more practical for everyone. Florence ended up sitting next to Harry, the scent of his cologne perfuming the air in such an intoxicating way she thought she could get drunk over it.

 

That was when she realized she shouldn't be thinking in such a way. It was wrong she scolded herself. She tried to picture Greg's face. Baby blue eyes, light brown hair and a sharply structured jawline that would make anyone swoon. His voice was smooth and his personality charming. He was tall, almost as tall as Harry, and his build wasn't bad either. He frequently went to the gym when he wasn't at work. She tried to picture him sitting right in front of her in his favorite blue button-down shirt that made his biceps more prominent. She tried to picture him smiling as she attempted to make him laugh. It was hard to make him laugh.

 

Something brushed against her arm and that was when she realized she was still wearing her jacket. No one had realized that she was still wearing her jacket or her quietness, since she didn't usually say much. But he had. He had and that made her more nervous than usual. She unzipped her jacket and placed it behind her chair, exposing the chunky, light brown turtleneck sweater she wore underneath. While turning back around to face the table a waiter came by and asked if anyone wanted anything to drink.

 

Florence quickly scanned the back of the menu and her eyes lit up. "I'll have a hot chocolate, please."

 

"Whipped cream and cinnamon?" He asked while writing everything down with his pen.

 

"Yes, please," she smiled, happy with her order.

 

The waiter nervously looked over to Harry, "and you, sir?"

 

Harry smiled, almost as if to try and relax the young teenager, which Florence found endearing, "I'll have what she's having."

 

The waiter took Ingrid's order and then left, leaving everyone to talk amongst themselves again. Percy took a gulp of his coffee before motioning to Harry, "so what have you been up to?"

 

Harry's eyes twinkled, "I'm writing for my next album. I'm mainly on break, which is nice."

 

Ingrid made a gasp from the other side of the table, her eyes wide, "I can't wait to hear it. The first one was just amazing."

 

Harry shook his head, "thank you very much." Florence could tell he meant it. He must care deeply about his work. "What about you," he looked to Percy, "how's college in America going for you?"

 

Florence's mind drifted while she skimmed through the menu. She felt Harry's arm brush against her's once more. She dreaded how electricity jolted through her and how a strange warmth filled her chest at the action. He was probably doing it on accident she thought, the table is small. She scooted her chair away from Harry to try and make some room for him. She didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable.

 

The waiter came back with the drinks at a fast pace, his face red as he handed Harry his hot chocolate first, the whipped cream perfectly balanced on the surface of the creamy cocoa and the dusted cinnamon just the right amount. Florence was last to get her order, a small twinge of disappointment flooding through her as she saw that her whipped cream was sideways and the cinnamon was nonexistent.

 

"Are you folks ready to order?" The waiter asked breathlessly. Florence didn't want to say anything about her drink, she didn't want to be rude so she kept her mouth shut as she chose one of the lunch options.

 

Everyone ordered and once the waiter left, she watched a hand with bulky rings adorning it skillfully wrap around the white mug of her hot chocolate and be replaced with the perfect one. She looked up at Harry to confront him, but he had found an interest in talking to Chris about soundboards and recording setups, acting as if he hadn't done what he did. What an odd man she thought as she brought the drink to her lips, taking small sips of the hot liquid. She was afraid to say thank you, not because saying thank you was a particularly difficult thing for her, but because she didn't want the others to hear, so she just kept drinking until it was almost completely gone. She enjoyed having a secret between her and Harry, as small as it was. It made her feel giddy like a little kid, it excited her to know that he of all people and her of all people knew something the others did not.

 

Unspoken, she watched as Harry drank from what was supposed to be her mug, observing the way his lips kissed the lip of the ceramic surface. For some reason, the idea of knowing that her mouth would've been where his was sent a twisted feeling in her gut. It made her feel guilty because immediately after the thought, the image of Greg popped into her head and she shut down all consuming thoughts of Harry. She couldn't allow herself to think in such a way. She couldn't think of him because if she did, nothing would ever be the same.


End file.
